


Fracture, Fall

by MsTrick



Series: Polished Twitter Threads [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Hand Jobs, M/M, Office Sex, Pre-Fall of Overwatch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:54:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21984763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsTrick/pseuds/MsTrick
Summary: Gabriel was suddenly furious that Jack thought he knew him so well, that this confrontation was just another trial for the Strike Commander to weather until the day ended. His hands slid from Jack's shirtfront to the sides of his neck. Callused fingertips trailed with terrifying gentleness over the tender skin below his ears and the stubbly line of his jaw. A thumb grazed the swell of Jack’s lower lip.Gabriel needed to reel Jack out of that Strike Commander shell. Just this one last time.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Series: Polished Twitter Threads [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765933
Comments: 14
Kudos: 98





	Fracture, Fall

# # #

Gabriel found Jack in his office, both the man and the room stripped bare and raw, devoid of the textures and passions that once made up Jack Morrison’s existence. The Strike Commander persona had rolled over it all with the cruel thoroughness of a tsunami.

Sitting in his chair, Jack stared at nothing through the dull tap of a dehydration headache. A tessellation of everyone else’s needs beamed from the wall, irritatingly bright in the dim office, news feeds unspooling tragedies he'd tie back to himself.

Gabriel entered without knocking and Jack looked at him without seeing, their view of one another obscured by a dense wall of accusations and disagreements. Gabriel's lungs dissolved in his chest and he scrambled to reassemble them before he suffocated on his own nanites. Moira's miracle cure was becoming less miracle and less cure by the day.

But even with his breath back, he couldn't form words. Not the right words, anyway. Not the words that would change anything. 

Jack barely existed within his own skin anymore. Gabriel hated the flood but also hated Jack for drowning. He'd needed Jack to be good, needed him to mark the black and white so Gabriel had landmarks with which to navigate the grey. He'd needed Jack to be good, but not _this_ good, not so stubbornly good that it was destroying them all.

You couldn't play an honest game of chess when your opponent stole your pieces and scratched out the lines and shredded the board.

Everything they'd built was rotting from the roots up, strangled by bureaucracy and hemmed in by terrorist attacks and painted as deserving of their fate by the media. And Gabriel could not could not _could not_ see another way to fight Talon than to join them and carve them up from the inside out.

How much evil could he do in the name of long-term peace? What was his soul worth?

Gabriel hauled Jack up by his shirtfront.

Jack fumbled at his grip as he was backed into a bare wall, his brain reciting the many valid reasons Gabriel had to add a few cracks to his skull. Failing to prevent Reinhardt's ejection or Torbjörn’s rageful retirement. And Ana... Jack wasn't sure what was more unbearable: that she was actually dead and he'd failed to find her body, or that she’d lived and decided she'd rather vanish than return to Overwatch. Jack could keep going; the list of names and events Gabriel had every right to hold against him scrolling before his eyes.

Gabriel wasn't sure what he was doing. He wanted to somehow crush the mistrust and resentment from them both. He wanted Jack to admit Overwatch had failed but he also loved Jack for trying so hard even now.

And wasn't this the exact wrong time to realize how fucked you were for someone? 

Loving Jack was as mundane and thoughtless as breathing, too familiar to notice. Until now, when Gabriel was planning on tearing their lives to pieces.

A few meager inches between their faces, Jack watched him with dulled resignation, waiting to be accused of some new misstep or damned for preferring ideals over people. And Gabriel was suddenly furious that Jack thought he knew him so well, that this confrontation was just another trial for the Strike Commander to weather until the day ended.

His hands slid from Jack's shirtfront to the sides of his neck. Callused fingertips trailed with terrifying gentleness over the tender skin below his ears and the stubbly line of his jaw. A thumb grazed the swell of Jack’s lower lip.

Gabriel needed to reel Jack out of that Strike Commander shell. Just this one last time.

Just for a stolen few minutes, he wanted who they used to be and who they never were to each other.

Speechless, blue eyes searching, Jack could only follow the suggestion and let his lips part.

Gabriel kissed him, not harsh and angry, not shy and sweet. It was the kind of kiss that screamed a slow, potent ownership.

Jack should have been frozen in shock or careening in disbelief, but his tongue was already soft against the heat of Gabriel's, a groan was already sticking in his throat, he was already clutching at Gabriel's clothes.

This had always been the locked basement of their relationship. The possibility, unspoken, that existed in the odd lingering gaze, the odd late night fantasy. But with the house burned down, their careers aflame and their families lost or banished, only the foundation remained and only two options: Walk away from the ruins. Or smash open that basement door, fling their bodies into the dark and bury themselves beneath the charred remains of everything else they’d been to each other.

 _Found you_ , Gabriel thought, satisfaction striking his desire like a gong. He snarled into the kiss and tilted Jack’s head to deepen it.

A bolt of light and heat zagged through Jack, starting behind his eyeballs and crashing down to the base of his spine, sizzling down to his toes. The raw high of lust was cut with something else, something Jack hadn’t felt in years: exhilaration. That same bolt had run through him when he’d first launched into battle, landing rockets into Omnics’ heads, challenging all that endurance and strength they’d pumped into him. It was the ringing silence of jumping off a cliff into open space. It was grinning into the unknown. It was danger.

That’s what it was.

Kissing Gabriel was pure danger. A threat to everything Jack was and everything he stood for. Gabriel wanted to smash Overwatch's husk and use the broken pieces to stab Talon to death. But for Jack, it was as though Gabriel intended to pull out his bones to sharpen into weapons.

What was he without Overwatch?

As though in answer to that question, Gabriel’s roughened hands were in his hair, under his shirt, raking hot over his waist.

A swift push and Jack separated them by a few startled inches.

Heavy breaths painted each other’s faces, cool on wet lips. Their dilated gazes locked tight. Their heartbeats collided where they were still pressed together. The incredible density of everything they weren’t saying swelled between them. One more second and the moment would have succumbed to it.

But Jack’s fists tightened in Gabriel’s hoodie and dragged them back together. Gabriel’s tongue curled around his, molten and demanding, and Jack surged into the kiss like it was oxygen.

This. This was the part of him Overwatch never took and could never take. The intractable eagerness to follow Gabriel, the willingness to be used by him, the yearning to belong to him. Under Gabriel’s hands, he became pliant, malleable, a scalding pool of need, liquid steel that could be forged into anything.

His legs parted for the thigh wedging between them. He didn’t even think about it.

Gabriel slid Jack’s belt through its buckle and tugged at the fastenings of his pants with the rushed energy of a thief afraid of being caught mid-heist. He felt the universe bearing down on them, the cosmic balance that would require them to be on opposite sides. His fingers dove into the band of Jack’s boxer briefs and wrapped around their prize.

Jack poured a loud moan into their kiss and Gabriel broke it to settle his other hand over Jack’s mouth in a firm press.

Jack felt his flushed cheeks warm beneath Gabriel's fingertips. Sweat dotted his hairline. Black pools spread like ink through those blue eyes and Gabriel held their stare as he stroked the cock burning hot in his hold. He gathered the pearly drops collecting on the tip and swirled the wetness over the head.

Jack arched his back and scratched helplessly at Gabriel’s waist, nails over cloth, unable to break that hypnotic eye contact.

 _Do you get it yet?_ Gabriel nearly hissed. _Do you understand how much of you belongs to me?_

Gabriel took what he wanted in sure strokes and maddening squeezes. And, as always, Jack gave in, gave him everything. Slicked with precum, the glide of Gabriel’s hand picked up speed. The rough and delicious pressure blinked out every thought in Jack’s brain.

Damp from Jack’s heaving breaths, Gabriel’s palm caught the slick of teeth as well as a ragged shout. Jack convulsed, cumming hard enough that his skull knocked into the wall and his knees quivered. Warm semen spilled over Gabriel’s knuckles and dripped to the floor. He twisted his wrist to drag out the sensations. Electricity crackled through Jack’s nerves almost longer than he could stand.

The hand clamped over his face loosened, doubtless leaving a red print in its wake.

Jack’s eyes sharpened and without bothering to tuck himself in, he shoved Gabriel backwards with no small amount of force. Gabriel gracelessly landed on the desk, his elbow cracking the touchscreen with a crunch and a flicker of light. A fight coiled inside him. The hairline cracks on the black screen reminded Gabriel, aptly, of thin ice fracturing beneath them, poised to give way and drop them into perilous depths.

Jack was too busy undoing Gabriel’s fly to notice or care. Gabriel tried to sit up and Jack pushed him back down with a hand planted on his rib cage, slotting himself between Gabriel's legs. Jack wet his lips as he freed Gabriel from the confines of his underwear. Gabriel let out a strangled “ _Ah—_ ” as the flat of a tongue dragged over his balls, wet heat dipping into folds and lapping at the heavy sac. Nimble fingers trailed over Gabriel's shaft before closing into a fist.

Gabriel breathed hard, watching Jack's lips redden against his dick. His fantasies of bringing Jack to his knees were being neatly snapped in half. Because even when Jack sucked the leaking cock into his mouth and a track of saliva trickled over his chin, this blow job was no act of submission. This was not Jack Morrison kneeling in prayer or appreciation or defeat. This was Jack Morrison pinning Gabriel’s hips to the surface of his desk and devouring him.

That ferocity hooked into Gabriel’s sternum, tugging hard. He wanted to kill Strike Commander Morrison, but this — but _Jack_ , Jack in all his brattiness and vitality — he wanted to save.

The pressure of that sucking heat skirted the edge of painful and Gabriel stifled a gasp, his hips twitching up, straining against the fingers digging into the tender junction of his groin and upper thigh. A velvety tongue swirled around the sensitive cockhead, each sweep adding to the blaze burning in Gabriel’s gut.

Jack bobbed his head down, swallowing hard, and Gabriel groaned through his teeth at the squeeze of a throat fluttering around his shaft, tight and hot and _fuck—_

One of Gabriel’s fists slammed down, another crack in the Strike Commander’s desk, as ecstasy seized him, bright white gold biting into every nerve. Jack pulled off before he fully finished. The last few pulses of semen drizzled into the hem of Gabriel’s black hoodie and the trail of dark hair wandering up his belly.

Jack panted, trying to get his breath back, both hands planted on the tabletop on either side of Gabriel’s thighs. He seemed outrageously human in that moment. Gabriel dragged the back of his knuckles across Jack’s slick chin, wiping at the lingering wetness. Jack looked at him the way he used to after they’d bloodied each other on the mat, like he didn’t trust their connection but knew there was no disentangling from it.

The ruined desk let out a low screech as it attempted to ring with an incoming phone call. The moment crumpled, the world jamming itself between them. They stole glances at each other as they tucked themselves back into their trousers, every single _Why now?_ and _What now?_ unvoiced but keenly felt.

By the time Jack withdrew the eyepiece from his coat pocket, Gabriel was walking out of the office. He paused at the door, his right hand clenched on the jamb, but couldn’t bring himself to look back. Jack put the eyepiece on and answered the call, eyeballing the splintered glass that had been his workspace.

Hours later, alarms slapped the halls with red emergency lights. Metal screamed as an explosion tore through the building and fractured the ground beneath their feet.

# # #

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a thread on Twitter that I ended up liking enough to polish up and post. Come hang with me [there](https://twitter.com/MsTrick16) or on [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/mstrick) if you want more drabbly/plot bunny things ヽ(*＾ω＾*)ﾉ


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